


Be Mine

by uv_duv



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Horny for Blood, Horny for Love, Hypnosis, M/M, Mild Gore, Murder, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Roses, Sexual Fantasy, Wet Humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 17:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uv_duv/pseuds/uv_duv
Summary: Nandor sees a new side of Guillermo after his familiar helps him with a particularly resilient meal in his crypt. Very, very late Valentine's Day fic.Answers the question: "Why did Nandor finally decide to make the glitter portrait?""Nandor hummed contentedly, brushing his nose affectionately against Guillermo’s hair, happy that Guillermo’s arms encircled him too.How could he possibly convey to Guillermo everything that he meant to him? How could he keep his Guillermo close and sweet and devoted forever?"
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Be Mine

_ A crackling fire, a bear pelt… Gentle hands on his chest, the feeling of the excited hard penis nudging up nervously against his, brushing back curly hair to see those eyes, the liquid affection, the utter adoration and worship in their umber depths. The complete surrender of the small naked human man in his arms to his kisses, moaning and melting and mewling. So warm, so soft, so... _

Nandor woke up, alone in his coffin.

_...Guillermo. _

He did not used to think of Guillermo this way. 

Closing his eyes, he tried to settle back into the dream, but it was no use, like trying to fall upwards. Nandor sighed, his mind annoyingly restless with thoughts of his frustrating familiar while his ancient bones and muscles sunk against the cushioned wood beneath him, as heavy and stiff as lead. 

_ How had this come to be?  _ It was certainly not meant to go like this. He had even chosen Guillermo, and then kept him, based on several criteria, most important among them being how much Nandor did  _ not _ want to fuck him. It was even circled in his personal ledger.  _ How had things changed so quickly? _

Nandor unfolded his arms, joints creaking with the motion, and idly fingered the fur lining of his coffin. Frankly, it was very rude of Guillermo to become so delectable. A rare mix of strength and softness, bumbling and adorable and doting with a stubborn, restrained edge to him that Nandor found very interesting. And then his  _ ass _ . His luscious backside barely contained in his trousers that was always bending down all over the place and making Nandor wonder on occasion if Guillermo was intentionally trying to seduce him and playing all stupid about it.  _ It would not work! Little schemer!  _

As if Nandor had not seen that one before.  _ Psh.  _ Hepoked the lid of his coffin mockingly. In the past, maybe on occasion he would have passing thoughts of what would happen if he came upon Guillermo in such an attractive position in his crypt, over his coffin perhaps, how Guillermo’s small hands would scrabble for purchase on the lid carvings and his lovely plump belly would push against the wood and how Nandor would grasp his fleshy hips and bite his neck and reach between his legs and make his thick thighs shake as he thrust inside of him... make him scream the things he screams… show him why he was his Master, why he belonged to him and only him... 

He knew that Guillermo would like that very much. That of course had been fine.  _ Quite common, really.  _ The true worry was that at some point these little reveries took on a different hue. Wanting to make Guillermo feel good was a universal constant, but facing him, kissing his mouth, taking their time and making it nice, so nice, with small chats and giggles and holding and not leaving when it was over. Having his very bones rattled by a howling desire to hear different words from Guillermo, even though the idea of saying these same words himself filled Nandor with a humiliating terror that he couldn’t explain. Words that Nandor had not heard once from him, not ever in their time together, never even during Guillermo's alone times when he thought he couldn't be overheard. Only three words that were older than any language.

_ I lo-- _

Nandor shook his head, yawning and cracking his jaw with it, dismissing the unruly thoughts. He had resisted and would continue to do so. It was better that way. These things had a tendency of falling apart no matter what he did, anyhow. Still, Guillermo didn’t make it easy. Even when Guillermo was being especially tempting, Nandor took pleasure in other ways, keeping Guillermo at an arm’s length, anticipating the inevitable. 

But now, considering the inevitable, of Guillermo eventually succumbing to his mortality or finally leaving him, Nandor’s stomach felt cavernous and empty and a little... wobbly? 

Maybe he was just hungry. 

\-----

At the sound of his voice, Guillermo always came right away, and that afternoon was no exception. Guillermo’s little round face under his little round glasses materialized in the shadows like a concerned moon as he lifted the coffin lid and whispered, “Yes, Master? What can I do for you?”

Nandor steadied himself on the edge of the coffin as he sat up. “I am very hungry,” he moaned, clutching his stomach, the low collar of his sleep shirt purely coincidentally slipping down due to gravity and gravity alone. “Please bring me someone, anyone.” 

“R-right away, sir,” Guillermo stammered, after looking at him in that way that Nandor wished he could preserve in a bell jar.  _ He was getting better at maintaining eye contact…  _

“Thank you, Guillermo...” he said after a moment, placing his hand on top of Guillermo’s, satisfied at the resultant jump in his heart rate as well as its warm cushiony comfort under his palm. It would be so easy, to lift his hand to his mouth and kiss it. Guillermo averted eye contact, staring at Nandor’s hand on top of his, hesitating for a few seconds, precious seconds that Nandor generously allowed him, before getting into position to help Nandor disembark from his coffin. 

Standing and watching Guillermo puttering around the dark of his crypt, Nandor was impressed that he didn’t bump into anything with his feeble human eyesight anymore. The little man had become quite diligent and a pleasure to observe. The swell of his belly was revealed when he lifted his strong arms to turn over the paintings. His anxiety for Nandor’s safety made him bite his lip as he checked the curtains, urging Nandor to stay far behind him. And then Nandor’s absolute favorite part, watching him unroll a tarp that he laid on the floor by the door,  _ his tantalizing, plump, round... _

Nandor found himself smiling at Guillermo, a small indulgence. Guillermo really was improving with time, a precious fruit that was flourishing under his tutelage.  _ Ripening.  _ It was just a shame that he couldn’t stay a fresh juicy peach in perpetuity. He’d have to be plucked, and possibly lose something in the plucking, or else drop to the ground and rot.  _ Eugh. _ Nandor’s stomach felt unsteady again. It wasn’t a topic that merited further contemplation at that time, so Nandor turned his attentions back to the present moment.  __

His finely attuned ears caught Guillermo unlocking the cell door down the hall and the act he would put on. “I’m so glad I found you! Come with me, I think I know the way out…”

_ Cute. He did like his little stories... _

The girl Guillermo pushed into his crypt was stunned, stuck on her hands and knees, crinkling the tarp and looking around sightlessly, her skittering heartbeat like the sounds of tiny claws scratching from behind a wall. Oddly, she was dressed as a cat. Regardless, she smelled delicious; Guillermo chose well. Nandor pre-emptively licked his lips as he pinned her against the door.

“Jesus Christ!” she shrieked. His sensitive eardrums felt like they were lanced with white hot needles. 

“Don’t say that shit--!” Against his wishes, she continued to say that shit.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh God, Jesus--” Boiling bile rose in Nandor’s throat and he stumbled backwards into his own suit of armor. The words were like iron hammers pounding against his skull, or flaming brands searing the nerves behind his eyeballs.  _ Fuck. _ He hissed weakly, disoriented.

She fumbled with the door knob and then beat the door with her tiny weak human fists, still screaming those horrid holy words. “Jesus, Jesus PLEASE open this door!” she sobbed in between broken prayers and exaltations to saints that felt like screws drilling into Nandor's temples. 

Nandor grit his teeth, hissing aggressively as he slunk back up behind her with his talons extended to tear her trachea out, but she whipped out a crucifix and flung him into his own fireplace grate. The impact dislodged his favorite set of halberds, clattering on the brick beneath him. His vision swam as he struggled to raise his head to look at his disagreeable prey. She was heaving herself against the door, clearly ignorant of the window not more than several feet away from her.  _ Stupid girl. _ Raising a hand to his cheek, Nandor realized blood was trailing down his face from his eyes and nose. She was a fighter, he could concede that. He wiped his own blood off on his sleep trousers with an irritated grunt. Grasping one of the fallen halberds, Nandor took aim for the girl’s back, when she suddenly bashed through the door and launched herself into the hallway. To Guillermo.

His mouth dropped open as the fear flickered alive under his skin.

_ Guillermo. _

The sounds of their scuffling filled him with dread. Scraping and screeching. A hard thud, a head bouncing off of the floor with a resounding crack, feminine grunting declaring their victory.  _ No no NO-- _

Nandor braced himself against the halberd as he struggled to his feet, shaking the hellish ache of the words from his head as he rushed forward to save Guillermo. He inhaled deeply to roar, tensed his muscles to pounce, to tear her off of him, to rip each of her offending limbs out of their sockets for daring to damage him.

It was unnecessary. His jaw hung slack. The most wonderful sight greeted Nandor, the anguish dripping off of him like icicles melting in the sight of the spring sun. 

Guillermo had her. His eyes were unyielding steel compared to her trembling terror, the curls of his disheveled hair like shining obsidian claws. Edging forward, Guillermo forced her back into the crypt despite her squirming, slamming the door back behind them and plunging them all into the dark. __

Guillermo’s thick hand was clasped over her mouth, holding the scalding holy words back.  _ Such a good boy.  _ Nandor pushed her hair back to reveal her pulsing neck and let his hand keep sliding forward to land on Guillermo’s powerful shoulder. Just as he was about to sink his fangs into the taut flesh of her quivering throat he was thwarted yet again. A force repelled him.  _ Her shitty jewelry,  _ he realized, growling in frustration with how difficult eating this victim was proving to be.  __

Guillermo’s eyes met his in worry and seemed to sense his dilemma, tearing the irritating necklace off with his other hand and throwing it across the crypt.  _ Beautiful little Guillermo… My perfect Guillermo…  _

He surged forward, crushing Guillermo and the girl trapped between them against the door with a guttural roar as he tore into her throat, spraying blood across Guillermo’s face. Shifting, Nandor nestled Guillermo’s thick thigh between his legs, grinding against it as he drank and drank and his cock got harder and harder. He let his eyes droop closed as he savored it, opening them halfway to meet Guillermo’s gaze, almost close enough to touch. Nandor wanted to devour the look in Guillermo’s awestruck puppy eyes, lined in the crimson blood spatters on his glasses. He wanted to drink the way his lips parted, his moans and whines filling Nandor's ears like sweet nectar. 

With each undulation of Nandor’s body, with each pant and grunt as he drank, Guillermo’s heart pumped harder and harder as the girl’s dimmed fainter and fainter, as though Guillermo were feeding from her in his own way. The girl sagged between them, pained sounds gurgling out of her like her tears dripping down Guillermo’s hand. Nandor’s own fingers had wandered from Guillermo’s shoulder and into the black brambles of his hair, stroking and tugging as the girl’s blood continued to flow down his throat, the flavor and the scent of Guillermo intertwining in his nostrils. The thigh between his legs was rocking against his erection, making him moan from the layers of sensory pleasure. A repeating thought thundered in Nandor’s mind, as insistent and powerful and urgent as a war drum, drowning out everything else. 

_ I MUST HAVE HIM, I MUST HAVE HIM, I MUST HAVE HIM-- _

He lunged against the door, pressing Guillermo and the girl up from the floor, growling in a way that he knew would echo through Guillermo. A strangled high pitched moan came from either the girl or Guillermo, Nandor couldn’t be sure. But then the same voice murmured, “Master… I...”

It made Nandor dislodge his fangs from his meal to purr his name slowly, barely above a reverberating whisper, stroking Guillermo’s hair, squeezing his plump buttock, and rejoicing in the helpless fervent need in his eyes.  _ Keep going… Say it. Tell me at last…  _

But Guillermo didn’t say anything else, his facial features pinching together before he finally came with small sobs he couldn’t contain. Nandor imagined what Guillermo would do completely under his power. What sounds would he make, what movements, as Nandor carefully, relentlessly undid him, exactly how Guillermo wanted? Guillermo would cling to him, his little claws digging into his back, his dainty ankles wrapping around him, pulling him deeper as he… 

_ Oh.  _ The force of Nandor’s bite completely crushed the meat of his meal’s throat between his jaws, making a mess of her neck as his orgasm made him seize and see faint stars pulsing over Guillermo’s exhausted face. As he returned to himself, he released his fangs again, dropping the neck flesh to splatter on the tarp beneath them, and let Guillermo and the body sink back to the floor. The body continued to crumple onto the ground and Nandor stepped over it before wrapping his arms around Guillermo. 

“Master…” Guillermo whispered again, his eyes full of hope as he wet his lips. It was a familiar look, however Nandor did not want Guillermo’s first remembered kiss to be marred with a bloody mouth.  _ Nonetheless... _

“You have blood on your face,” Nandor murmured before licking it off slowly. Guillermo shivered and nuzzled his soft cheek against his laving tongue. The mixture of blood and the salt of Guillermo’s flushed skin was such a decadent dessert. Nandor hummed contentedly, brushing his nose affectionately against Guillermo’s hair, happy that Guillermo’s arms encircled him too. 

How could he possibly convey to Guillermo everything that he meant to him? How could he keep his Guillermo close and sweet and devoted forever? 

He slowly unwound himself from Guillermo. “I… You…” Nandor faltered. The necessary words evaded his grasp like a scattering school of fishies. He was soaring on so many good feelings that were blurring together, like innumerable jeweled leaves swirling in a gust of wind. And… a need at the center of it all… beyond hunger, but just as aching, for Guillermo.

_ It will be different this time,  _ Nandor resolved.

Guillermo patted his upper arm. “Let me take this out and then I’ll clean you up, okay?”

_ How was he so perfect? _

\-----

Nandor quickly formulated a plan, leveraging the upcoming human fuck holiday for some guy named Valentine.  _ Or girl?  _ He couldn’t be sure, but either way they must have been legendarily libidinous and he could respect that.  _ A fine and time-honored basis for a holiday. _

So far everything was going smoothly. The craft room table was covered in a protective layer of old newspapers, on top of which lay a spread of different colored parchments in a rainbow of blood red, to fleshy pink, to coal black, along with glue, markers, and other necessary card supplies. Sketching a quick outline of a bat, Nandor gripped the black paper carefully between thumb and forefinger and began to cut the shape with scissors. Guillermo scooted his chair close and gently placed his hands on Nandor’s.

“Can I show you a trick that will help?” he asked.

“I think I have got it perfectly well under control here,” Nandor scoffed, but was also a little intrigued. 

“It’s just quicker to…” Guillermo folded it in half, cutting along the remaining edge twice as fast and creating a much more symmetric shape.

“Ah, clever!” Nandor complimented, impressed with his technique. “Flappy flappy!” He held up the little paper bat and fluttered its wings at Guillermo, rewarded handsomely with his giggles. 

“This will be you soon, you know.” He would have to make a second, bigger bat next, to represent himself.

“Soon, Master?” Guillermo perked up, his warm body touching Nandor’s side now.

“Yes, I am thinking so,” Nandor replied. He wanted to say more, but again, the words wouldn’t come, or wouldn’t come out right, so he didn't bother trying to wrangle them but rather sat and looked at Guillermo’s precious soft eyes and the curls of his hair instead. Those eyes could be so sharp, too, Nandor knew now.  _ Thrilling.  _ Seeing this side of Guillermo also assuaged one of his worries at the prospect of turning him, that the timid man, who would flinch at imaginary noises, panic at playful dogs, and startle himself with shadows, may not have the stomach for striking the killing blow. Nandor certainly knew his capacity for deception and seduction, but it simply would not be feasible to feed Guillermo blood like a baby bird.  _ At least, not more than half a dozen times or so. _

“Master…?” 

Right, he was going to do something. _ Ah yes, the distraction. _

“I realized that we forgot something. Would you mind getting some love flowers?”

He shifted around for some coins in his back pocket which he gave to Guillermo for the purchasing of the appropriate floral decorations. Nandor drank in Guillermo’s little smile as he plopped the currency in his plump hand. He especially appreciated the view as Guillermo walked out of the craft room.  _ Now, for the task at hand. _

Inspired by Guillermo’s folding trick, Nandor made another, larger bat and creased each wing to lay flat in front of it. Then, using the same maneuver again, he cut a red cartoon heart out and placed it within the bat’s wings, although at first it was too large so he had to fold and cut it down a few more times before alighting upon the correct fit and gluing it down at last.  _ It really did not resemble Guillermo’s human heart,  _ Nandor thought, vaguely annoyed with this mismatch, but decided he could live with the simpler shape. 

From a certain perspective, it did call to mind Guillermo’s absolutely apocalyptic rear.  _ Give me your heart and your ass,  _ Nandor thought, chuckling to himself, satisfied now that the card evoked the proper meanings. He sat there for some time, staring at his creation.

It wasn’t enough as is, but he didn’t have very much space to write something detailed and descriptive…  _ Short and sweet, perhaps, would be best. To the point. _

He set to work. 

\-----

Thankfully, in his current state, Guillermo could not fly and was quite slow toddling along on his short human legs, so everything was ready by the time he returned holding a large bushel of blood red love flowers.  _ Excellent color choice.  _ Nandor sprang to his feet, squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest out.  _ There was nothing to be afraid of. _ Yet he could not move.  _ Why was he locked in place? _ Thankfully, Guillermo walked to him. 

“Um…” Nandor coughed, clearing his throat. It was unusually tight for some reason. “Read this, please,” he almost croaked, handing Guillermo his creation. 

“Did you make me a card, Master?” Guillermo smiled, gifting Nandor with his eye crinkles and mouth lines that lingered now. He cradled the flowers against his shoulder as he unfolded the bat wings to reveal the crimson heart within. The message Nandor had painstakingly inscribed with his best calligraphy in golden Sharpie ink pen read quite simply:

_ Be Mine  _

_ Forever _

Guillermo looked bewildered, glancing at the card, to Nandor, and then to the card again. “Do--do you mean it, Master?”

“Of course, Guillermo…” Nandor responded in a low, comforting tone.  _ How could he think I didn’t mean it...?  _ To reassure him further, he stroked his wooly sweater just above his hips with both of his hands. Guillermo sighed pleasantly, but then squished his face together like he was going to--  _ Oh no. _

“What are these for…?” Nandor asked, brushing a beading tear from his cheekbone. A pang in his chest reminded him of their dance.  _ Had this offended or upset him somehow?  _ He could be so unpredictable, so sensitive. 

"I'm… happy. I never thought… I never thought this would actually…” Guillermo swallowed and laughed softly, blinking the water through his lashes. 

_ Ah, happy tears.  _ Nandor smiled in relief at his damp, happy Guillermo, kissing and nibbling at his neck as his face rubbed against the petals of the bouquet. Guillermo’s giggles were the finest notes of any instrument Nandor had ever heard. He whispered into his ear, “Yes… yes… You will always--eh. Ah, ah, ack.”

Nandor scowled, coughing, his nose tickling like ants were crawling in it.  _ Were there insects in the--? _

“ **_ACHOO!_ ** _ ” _

Nandor’s head rang.  _ What the fuck kind of flowers had Guillermo purchased? _ It had been at least a decade since Nandor had last sneezed, and it had to be now?  _ Shit. Did Guillermo notice? _

The chartreuse mucus coated his face, dripping off of his glasses and chin. Nandor groaned.  _ He had almost certainly noticed. _

The brittle silence stretched on and on, like a dangling piece of thin molten glass that hadn’t quite snapped yet. Nandor didn’t know what else to do except stand there, rotating a ring on his finger. Finally, Guillermo cleared his throat, wiping his mouth with a tissue from his pocket. 

“I… uh… Well, I didn’t exactly picture this going this way,” he said, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

All of the good feelings that Nandor had enjoyed up to that point withered, wrinkled, and disintegrated entirely.  _ It could not be allowed to go this way. _

“I will make it right,” he whispered, his fingers tracing circles on Guillermo’s scalp. 

_ You will forget the card I gave you and that I ejected mucus all over your face. You will clean yourself and then return to me. _

Plucking the card from Guillermo’s hands, he watched him saunter off in a daze to the bathroom and return a little while later with the cursed flowers, which Nandor avoided like whatever plague had diseased Laszlo’s, and now, in a way, his own penis.

\-----

Nandor distanced himself from Guillermo for some time, not wanting to afflict him with his sour mood from his bungled proposal. Eventually, he tried to see the gold lining of the incident. It was a fresh chance, an opportunity to go big! To really dazzle Guillermo.  _ But how?  _

Nothing had so bedeviled Nandor in recent memory. Words seemed like a decent enough starting point. He consulted books and tomes on the topic of propositioning your servant to an eternity of continued companionship with sexual benefits, but could find nothing satisfactory. None of the words that other people had written came close, or quite encompassed everything he needed to communicate.

Nandor made the tactical decision to request the advice of his good friends, and then eventually Colin Robinson out of necessity. Nadja seemed a logical first choice, but her suggestion to whisk his paramour away on a horse after slaughtering a slobbering horde of Turkish (which,  _ rude Nadja! _ ) wasn’t very practical. Laszlo suggested writing a song and serenading the object of his affections, which was much more reasonable, but the only instrument that Nandor could play with any facility was the metallic triangle which didn’t seem especially romantic.

Which left Colin Robinson, whom Nandor found in the technology room feeding paper into the large electronic printing press.  _ Didn’t the paper usually come out? _ He didn’t want to ask lest he invite a draining opportunity.

“What’s up, buttercup?” the personification of a lengthy legal proceeding asked. Nandor didn’t know what he meant by buttercup, since there was no butter and no cup in sight, but luckily he kept talking. 

“I’m sending some faxes.” 

_ Faxes? Perhaps some kind of wax?  _ No, no, he would not ask.

“Faxtastic,” Nandor said, grinning and trying not to betray his unease. Colin Robinson chuckled and complimented his pun, adding that he would steal it for his coworkers.

“No need for stealing, consider it yours,” Nandor encouraged him, bowing his head to indicate his permission. 

“Now then, Colin Robinson, I am coming to you for advice on a serious matter.” Nandor didn’t like the knowing curl of Colin Robinson’s mouth, but continued regardless. “Suppose, purely hypothetically, that you wanted to tell someone a very important message… but it is... of a sensitive and complicated nature… everything riding on their response.” He folded his hands in front of himself, hoping that Colin Robinson understood the weight of his question.

To his relief, Colin Robinson kept his answer mercifully short. “Can’t go wrong with a picture. They say a picture says a thousand words, after all.” 

“Ahh,” Nandor nodded in understanding. “Yes, yes I will give him a THOUSAND words!” he beamed, raising his arms with his excitement. “Thank you very much, Colin Robinson. To be honest, I was not expecting you to be so helpful.”

“Anything for a pal,” Colin Robinson grinned.

\-----

Colin Robinson kindly helped Nandor acquire the necessary supplies, draining people at Michael’s shop as Nandor filled his cart with paint, pretty dust, and brushes. He had never made use of them himself, having acquired his wives through conquests, contests, and contracts, but he was well aware of portraiture as a gesture of intent to wed. The use of the shining dust was a little modern spice inspired by the delightful Twilight films he enjoyed with Guillermo and Colin Robinson once the old owners of that theater had died and taken his photograph down from the entry kiosk. And also because Colin Robinson pointed out the product.

He set the protective paper across the coffin lid, retrieved a photograph of Guillermo from their kitty party, and set to work on an enticing advertisement of their eternal future. The sketch alone took many days, having to conceal his work in a compartment in his coffin that he kept hidden from Guillermo. 

One night, he laid down thick areas of glue where his figure would be, pouring glitter over it from the container like the ethernet had explained, waiting for it to completely dry before shaking it off and starting another area... Of course he would be bigger, necessarily standing behind Guillermo, but how to depict Guillermo? He had his own drawing, his own vision of his vampiric self he had shown him maybe a year ago.  _ They were coming up on two years soon, weren’t they?  _ Somehow, even after all that time, Guillermo’s adorable smile, the way he had hissed and held his fingers in front of his mouth like fangs, was perfectly clear, but the sketch and the name remained insubstantial. 

“Guillermo the…? The what?” he asked, squinting at the air. Still, it eluded him. 

A knock on the door startled him and he spilled the wrong color of glitter all over the portrait. 

“What is it now?!” he snapped, not keen on having to completely start over.

“Oh! Sorry Master, I thought you called for me,” Guillermo said, inching the door open to peer up at Nandor curiously. 

“No, no. Vampire master shit, not your concern,” he insisted, blocking Guillermo from opening the door further and possibly seeing his ruined work. He flicked his hands at Guillermo, who finally left him to his toils.

\-----

It kept happening.

“Did you need something?” Guillermo whispered through the door.

“Would a little privacy be possible, Guillermo?”

“Sorry, of course, Master. Did you remember to lay down towels this time? It just, it helps with clean up…”

“Yes, yes, I remembered,” Nandor insisted, a little insulted, thinking of the paper he always laid over the coffin. “Bye bye now.” 

\-----

After Guillermo interrupted him upwards of half a dozen times, Nandor started to relent on keeping it a perfect surprise.

“...Master? Um, what are you doing in there? Are you... okay?”

“I am perfectly fine, Guillermo. I don’t know why you are so insistent on disturbing me when I am thinking of how to best make you into a vampire…” 

Guillermo gasped. "Should I still go buy fireworks then, Master?"

"It's not happening tonight, Guillermo! Patience. But yes, still purchase the pretty explosives." 

They said bye bye and Nandor blew off the excess sparkle dust, quite excited that it was apparently already America Day. 

\-----

Nandor did not complete his portrait before the documentary crew arrived, and worse yet, needed more glitter and sticky gemstones for some finishing touches. Thankfully, Guillermo was distracted from Nandor’s ceaseless work to woo him by the crew’s interviews and tours of the house. And then the fucking Baron had been an entire other thing.  _ Yeesh.  _

On the night of their anniversary, Nandor ensured the camera crew would film them, but was surprised at Guillermo’s dour mood.  _ Perhaps he had truly forgotten…?  _ No, Guillermo had chosen matching outfits for them.  _ So he has assumed that I have forgotten. _

No matter, Guillermo would be much happier soon. It was hard to contain his excitement when Nandor asked him, “Does not an anniversary deserve a reward recognizing your years of service?”

“I’m ready, Master.”

“Good. Prepare yourself…” Nandor turned to retrieve his portrait, well aware there was no way that Guillermo could adequately brace himself for the sheer volume of joy he was about to give him. Nandor was careful to hold the board only by the very far edges, anticipating Guillermo’s happy tears, a perfect, unforgettable moment which would be captured on film forever.

“Happy Anniversary, Guillermo,” Nandor purred, smiling at his familiar that would soon be permanently his. 

But all he got was a small, insincere “Wow…” 

“It’s a glitter portrait,” Nandor explained slowly, thinking that perhaps Guillermo did not understand what he was looking at. “It’s a portrait made from glitter,” he repeated himself, gesturing to their representations. Guillermo’s face remained stubbornly dry.

_ Maybe the likeness was not coming through?  _ He was not as gifted at portraiture as Laszlo.  _ That must be it. _

“Look, it’s you. I made you a vampire.” He pointed at the vampire Guillermo, who he had eventually decided on styling after himself, since he would be the one turning him, after all.  _ Guillermo the Relentless.  _

But Guillermo’s face was still impassive and seemed vaguely ill.  _ This was nothing like before…  _ Nandor’s voice began to rise with mounting panic as he said, “And look who’s next to you. It’s me!” pointing at himself now.  _ Why was this not going like before?! _

He said “Wow”, again, seemingly the only word he was capable of. 

“Enjoy it,” Nandor commanded and definitely didn’t beg. At least Guillermo took the portrait from him. 

Nandor embarked into his coffin alone, given that Guillermo’s hands were full with his underappreciated gift, and congratulated him on his two years of service to maintain a positive facade. When Guillermo corrected him, Nandor sat back up, absolutely incredulous. 

“Ten years of service?”  _ Are you fucking with me right now? No, no… that can’t be right.  _

But Guillermo insisted, his tense grin betraying a deeper dissatisfaction. It could not have possibly been ten years, but Nandor let it go, reclining back into his coffin. Guillermo closed the lid less gently than he could have and blew out the candles with an unnecessary amount of force. When at last he checked the curtains, he seemed to linger at that task for longer than usual. Nandor got the message that he was obviously dissatisfied.  _ Was he waiting for something else?  _

“Night, Guillermo.” 

He did not even respond. Instead, the flutter of the curtain announced Guillermo’s exit and Nandor was left to torment himself over why Guillermo had rejected him so cruelly. He turned over their interactions since that Valentine’s and could think of nothing amiss or unusual… What was he lacking? Why was Guillermo being so contrary and inscrutable now?

An old fear made Nandor’s eyes sting, that perhaps, after everything, after apparently  _ ten _ fucking years, he had commited some unknown offence, somehow severing his ownership over Guillermo’s heart forever, and now Guillermo would leave him as soon as he had the opportunity.  _ The old serve and swerve. _ Doubt, thick and gelatinous, made his stomach teeter as he considered even worse possibilities, that maybe all this time that he thought he held a special place in Guillermo’s mind, the truth was that Guillermo would be as sweet for any vampire master, that perhaps any vampire could make his heart sing like that… that maybe Guillermo was not interested in a longer term arrangement. That Nandor’s hold had only ever been over his penis, and not his heart at all. 

It made him feel incredibly stupid, but more than that, it hurt. It burned like a silver blade buried to the hilt in his own heart.  _ Was any of this fucking real?  _ Nandor choked back a sob and then thought,  _ Well fuck him for making me feel like this.  _

_ He could be such a little monster. _

**Author's Note:**

> >:^)
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful, lovely, stupendous beta reader Heartless Memo!! And as always, eternal shoutout to Lee from the Nandermo discord server for their incredible insight into the glitter portrait as Nandor's confession of love/vision of his and Guillermo's future together and then to Interrobam for further encouraging me. <3 
> 
> Thinking about the glitter portrait scene breaks my brain about once a month, I'd say.
> 
> Love comments. ;)


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